


Last Night in Raven Rock

by EileenDover



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Banter, Bathing/Washing, Butt Plugs, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Light Dom/sub, Multi, My First Smut, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Porn with Feelings, Raven Rock (Elder Scrolls), Rimming, Rough Oral Sex, Sex Toys, Size Difference, Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex, What Was I Thinking?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:40:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EileenDover/pseuds/EileenDover
Summary: Lleril Morvayn of house Redorand, High Counselor of Raven Rock and ruler of Solstheim, had gotten used to having the Dragonborn around. Over the last month she had diligently finished every task he’d given her, from killing ash spawn to hunting down his would-be assassins. Now the Dunmer had no work left for her, and he knew across the sea Jarl Ulfric waited for her return, his patience wearing thinner with every passing day. If the Dovahkiin had only one night left on his island, he would make sure it would be one that she’d remember...*Welcome to my filthy swansong opus for the most handsome Dunmer in Skyrim.
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Glover Mallory, Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Lleril Morvayn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 26





	1. The Unwanted Reward

**Author's Note:**

> I'm starting with a disclaimer: I’ve never written fanfic before. Or smut. Or anything, really. I read a lot though, and thought it might be fun, and after my most recent Skyrim playthrough (I needed an escape from 2020) I thought Lleril would make a fun muse for my first fic. I just love that blond Dunmer. Oh, I tried to set the scene quickly and get right to the smut, but I got carried away and wrote an entire chapter... I swear chapter 2 gets smutty! I went with a Nord Dragonborn because I thought the size difference would be cute haha >_<;  
> This is only the 2nd piece of prose that I've ever written, so I'm sorry if my grammar and punctuation is awful! I did proofread it, i swear. Constructive criticism is welcome, I hope to write a few more Skyrim fics and want to get better, but I mostly just hope you enjoy it! Also I had so much trouble formatting the text, I gotta get better at that too >o

Last Night in Raven Rock  
Chapter I: The Unwanted Reward

Lleril Morvayn paced in the Counselors chamber at Raven Rock, too agitated to sit. Any moment now someone would come through that door for him- the question was, would it be a Severin assassin? Or the Dragonborn he had ordered to kill them? He pushed back a lock of blond hair that refused to stay in place and let out a sigh. He normally had plenty of patience, but tonight it ran in short supply.  
The Dunmer forced himself into a chair, letting his mind wander from the Severins, his once-friends now turned-enemies, to an altogether more pleasant topic: the Dragonborn. She had come to Raven Rock on Stormcloak business, her reputation preceding her. Lleril had waited at the docks as her ship arrived from the mainland, as impatient then as he was right now. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting— he only knew he wasn’t disappointed with what he saw.  
She was big, even for a Nord. Thick and fair, with cool eyes that cut right through him from under her helm. A woman of few words, she let her deeds (of which there were many) speak for her. Every task she set herself to she saw through until its completion no matter the difficulty or the risk. And this latest errand? Lleril drummed his fingers on the arm of his wooden chair. It wouldn’t be long until she tired of Raven Rock and heeded Ulfric’s summons calling her back to Skyrim…  
His thoughts were interrupted with a slam as the door burst open. Lleril’s head snapped up to see the Dragonborn standing before him, just as he had remembered her. Of course she didn’t knock; he was, after all, expecting her. Still though, her presence always seemed to put him on edge in a way he couldn’t quite articulate. Her armour was smeared with blood and ash, and under her helmet her auburn hair was matted to her head with sweat. For a moment, neither of them spoke.  
“Well?” He asked after a sufficient pause, looking her up and down.  
“It is done as you wished. The traitors are dead.” Her response was cold, like the lands she hailed from. Still, Lleril felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He was in awe of this creature that stood before him, all silent strength and mystery. It was no wonder Ulfric kept her close.  
Standing, he extended his arm to her. “I owe you my life for thwarting the House Hlaalu plot to have me assassinated.” It was a hollow response, ringing with all the formality of the court. “My… deepest thanks,” he finished flatly.  
The Dragonborn looked down, shifted her weight, and said nothing. Her silence brought out a stiff cordiality from him, airs that he knew kept her at arm's length. Was he so afraid of getting close to her? Or was he scared of what she might bring out in him?  
Straightening his shoulders, he approached her. “The deeds you have done for myself and Raven Rock are greatly appreciated... and you will be rewarded appropriately, of course.”  
“I didn’t do this for a reward,” she protested, and Lleril sighed. She was going to make this difficult.  
“Of _course_ you didn’t,” he said, stepping past her. He rummaged through his desk looking for a set of keys, when something sparkled at the back of the drawer, grabbing his attention. He paused for a second, his mind racing through the implications his next action might have.  
The Dunmer had a thought just then, so lascivious and exquisite he knew it must have been sent by a Daedric Prince— but which one of them, he couldn’t be sure. The vision both unnerved and compelled him; shaking his head free of it, he snatched the keys and the shining objects, shoving them in the pocket of his robe. He only hoped she wouldn't notice his unsteady hands.  
 _She would never allow it,_ he thought to himself.  
 _Just see where it leads you,_ a voice in his head whispered back.  
Lleril leaned on the desk and cleared his throat, trying to remember what he had been talking about. “Look,” he said, “What I mean to say, the things you’ve done for me— for _all_ of Raven Rock— goes far beyond what I expected from an outlander. For this you have my _deepest_ gratitude.”  
The Dunmer walked across to the door and opened it.  
“Come, follow me,” he instructed as he walked outside.  
The Dragonborn followed. He smiled to himself as he turned his head from her.  
She was good at taking orders. 

The full moons glowed brightly from behind a low-hanging sea of clouds. The night was cool and dry, typical weather for this time of year. From down the street they heard a low din coming from the Retching Netch. Any other evening Lleril might have wandered over to the tavern for a drink and a bit of conversation, but not tonight.  
“I hope you understand that you are no longer an outlander here. Your contributions to Solstheim and her residents have been so great, your generosity so vast, you have more than earned your citizenship here.” The flowery words flowed easily from him— as a representative of House Redoran he was used to diplomacy, but for some reason he didn’t feel like niceties were getting him anywhere with this woman.  
He stole a glance behind him to check that she was still trailing him.  
“Come on, keep up,” he gibed her. “Now, I’m certain you’ve been paid appropriately for everything you’ve done, however a bit of coin hardly seems like enough.”  
“I assure you—,” she started, but Lleril cut her off with a wave of his hand.  
“Ah-ah,  let me finish,” he said as they neared the smithy, “I have personally decided to provide you with something more…  _substantial_.”  
He nodded as they neared the Blacksmith, a burly Breton still working at his stone grinder. The Smith raised a meaty hand, glancing up at them.  
“Oi, Lleril!”  
The Dunmer waved back. Glover Mallory was an expert at his trade, but his long hours at the forge often had people complaining about the noise. It’s not like he could force the man to stop working.  
“Go to bed, Mallory!” Lleril sighed, exasperated.  
“I know, I know,” he said, though he showed no signs of stopping. “Oh, that reminds me- I had a question for ya!”  
Lleril’s patience was tested for the second time that night as he turned back to face the Breton. “Yes? What is it?” he asked through a smile.  
“I can’t remember now,” the Blacksmith grunted, angling an axe blade against the stone wheel.  
“Well then, when you do remember you must ask me at once,” he said with a curt nod of his head. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Dragonborn and I have some business to discuss.”  
Lleril turned on his heel and continued walking. He made a note of how the Breton had eyed the Dragonborn. He knew that look— the man was in awe, and with good reason. Mallory had seen her kill a dragon, then borne witness as she had absorbed its soul. They'd fought side-by-side to protect the city, but when the beast lay dead it became clear she'd been the one to take it down.  
The Dragonborn hadn’t even bothered to look at the Blacksmith as they had walked past. Some might think her behavior cold, even aloof, but Lleril saw through the guise. Everything about the way she carried herself was in direct contradiction to the power she wielded. Whatever the case, she seemed unaware of the effect she had on people. The woman was an enigma, and tonight he was determined to get to the bottom of it.  
They continued on in silence for a few minutes before arriving at their destination. Lleril turned to face the Dragonborn, and gestured at the stately house in front of them. He spoke with all the formality the Redoran court demanded.  
“Since the Severin family… Or whoever they were, turned out to be nothing more than a bunch of lousy criminals, I hereby proclaim their property forfeit.” He cleared his throat and dug in his pocket for the heavy set of iron keys, smiling to himself when he felt what else was in there.  
“As First Councilor of Raven Rock and ruler of Solstheim, I hereby award you Severin Manor— and everything contained therein.” He punctuated his sentence with a flourish.  
Her surprise was genuine as she turned to look up at the manor. “What? I— All of this,” she stammered, “for me? Are you…”  
“Sure?” Lleril chuckled, “Quite. I can do that, you know. Severin Manor is now yours to rename.”  
She looked back to him, but her smile was tinged with an air of sadness. “Thank you, Counselor. I mean that,” she said, “but I simply can’t accept.”  
Lleril’s eyes narrowed as he stroked his short beard. Damn this stubborn woman. Anyone else would have grabbed the keys out of his hand before he had finished his sentence. ...But she was not anyone else. No, she was an anomaly. Why couldn’t she just take the reward?  
No, he didn’t want to know her reasons. Not yet, in any case. He would see to it that she would accept him before the night was through, even if she did need some _persuasion._  
“At least wait until you’ve seen the place,” Lleril smiled. “I decorated it myself, and I believe you’ll find it _quite_ comfortable,” he said, turning a key in the heavy lock. Knowing she would protest if he gave her an opening, he marched straight into the house and continued.  
“Come in. And close the door behind you.”  
She did as she was told, stepping inside the foyer.  
_Right,_ he thought. _He would give her the tour._

“Before it belonged to the traitorous Severins,” he began, placing an arm behind his back, “it had served as a kind of guest house, if you will, for ambassadors and traveling diplomats. Raven Rock might seem like a frontier city to most, but our ebony mines have made us a crucial trading hub of both Skyrim and  Morrowind.”  
He rambled on with a feeling that if he just kept talking, it would lead him somewhere good. It usually did, anyway.  
“I personally saw to it that guests of this estate would want for nothing during their stay in Solstheim,” he gestured to the dining area. “Note the intricate stonework and handcrafted furniture...”  
He wasn’t sure what luxuries, if any, the Dragonborn was accustomed to. A bucket, perhaps? A hay bed on a cave floor?  
In preparation for her arrival he had ordered fires lit throughout the house, and any trace of the previous owners to be taken away and destroyed. The resulting ambiance was quite cozy. Lleril had hoped that after seeing the main room she would take off her armor and decide to stay in Raven Rock a while longer— indefinitely, ideally. But so far her helmet remained stubbornly on her head.  
As they ambled around the upper floor, he chatted pleasantly with her about the amenities— full kitchen, indoor plumbing, enchanting table... She seemed particularly interested in the storage, though he couldn’t fathom why. Axes, perhaps. All in all, he judged she was impressed with the property.  
“Well?” he asked, watching as she ran her fingers down a carved wooden beam, inspecting the craftsmanship.  
“ _Well…,_ ” she echoed, turning her head to look back at him. “I do believe this to be a _very_ lovely house, Counselor.”   
He laughed, charmed. It may have taken an entire lunar cycle, but she was finally relaxing around him.  
“You haven’t even seen the best bit! Come downstairs,” he said with a wave of his arm.  
She hesitated on the top step. “I don’t know…” Was it his imagination, or was she being bashful?  
“What are you afraid of?” His smile broadened to a foxy grin.  
She shrugged. “I’m… I’m not afraid of anything, I suppose. Except maybe Coldharbor, and that’s more annoying than anything.”  
“Well come on, then!” he laughed again, and she followed him down the staircase.  


They descended the wide set of stairs that lead to the underground living quarters. The room was circular, with a fire crackling away at one end. Lleril was relieved to see the large bathtub had been filled with hot water as he had requested. He dipped his fingers in it, gauging the temperature.  
All of a sudden a thought occurred to him that gave him pause.  
“I realize now it must be very strange to find yourself the owner of a house I had, on previous occasion, ordered you to break into,” he silently cursed himself for this oversight. “In that respect, I can appreciate your hesitation to accept the gift.”  
How could he have forgotten this, of all things? She had stolen proof of the assassination plot, for him, from this very room. On _his_ damn request!  
Giving her this house was his last attempt to keep her close. Without it there was nothing tying her to this desolate island. Quest after quest, Leril had given her— anything to extend his time with her. However, he had known from the start one day the winds would call her back to Skyrim. In his vanity he had hoped that, if she had a home to return to, perhaps one day…  
He had been a fool. Looking up, he half expected to see the Dragonborn walk out of the house, out of his life forever— but instead she took a step towards him.  
“No, that’s not… I mean, yes, perhaps it is a little  strange,” she said distractedly, “but that’s not what bothers me.” She paused, searching for the right words.  
“It’s just, only— I regret very much to inform you that I must return to Skyrim. Tomorrow, in fact. Ulfric sent word for me to catch the next boat,” she finished with a sigh, her voice quiet.  
“ _Aaaah,_ ”  breathed Lleri, “I think I’m beginning to understand.” He’d never heard so speak so much, and he was surprised by her passion. But why shouldn’t she be passionate? She was a woman, after all. It was her right.  
Her voice wavered as she spoke, “You must believe I would love nothing more than to stay here in Raven Rock. I really have enjoyed my time here.”  
Lleril arched an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised at her admission. “Oh? Tell me, what is it about my volcanic island that you enjoy? Is it the ash spawn, or the rieklings?” then frowning,  “Don’t tell me it’s the mad wizard.”  
Ignoring his teasing, she smiled from under her helmet. “Neloth isn’t _ that _mad. He just reads too many books.”  
“I don’t believe you,” the Dunmer crossed his arms. “The man is a loon, and there is little, if anything, to love about Solstheim.”  
“For one, the food is excellent, so fragrant and spicy! My armour’s grown tighter since I’ve been eating here,” she stated, the metal clinking as she patted her stomach. “And the landscapes here are unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” she continued earnestly, “There were times in my travels I became so overwhelmed, I had to stop just to take it all in!” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke, looking down at him.  
“And the people,” she hesitated, “I’ve met some very  lovely people, who I will be very sad to…,” she stopped, then tried again. “Counselor, I have to leave tomorrow, and I don’t know if...”  
As her voice faltered, something fluttered in Lleril’s stomach.  
“The people of Raven Rock have been honored to have you here,” he started—  
_No, that wasn’t right. Say what you mean._  
“ _I’ve _been honored to have you.”  
He stepped forward, closing the space between them. If this were truly her last night Raven Rock, he may as well be truthful with her. After all, they both knew that their paths may never cross again.  
“The honor has been mine,” she said, bowing her head. “So you understand, I would only be using the house for a night. It doesn’t make sense to just give it to me.” She was making excuses. She was  afraid.  
He was mere inches from her now, and he dropped his voice to a murmur.  
“What about when you come back to visit? Where will you stay then, hmm? ” He asked the question knowing full well she didn’t plan on coming back. Half of his job was spent thwarting excuses— she’d learn soon enough not to argue with him.  
“I’ll stay at the Retching Netch!” she blurted out, and Lleril chuckled. In truth there was nothing Lleril liked more after a long day of work than sipping on a glass of sujamma at the tavern. But The Netch was a miner’s dive, bawdy and loud- and it smelled as bad as its name implied.  
“I doubt you will find such amenities at the Retching Netch,” he joked dryly, raising a sharp eyebrow at her.  
Her laugh was bright and musical, breaking the tension in the room. Lleril realized this was the first time he had heard it, and the sound of her joy stirred something deep within him.  
“I’ll miss you, Counselor. Thank you. I really don’t know what to say,” she said, still smiling. They stood almost touching now.  
“So... You accept my gift?”  
“I do.”  
“Then that’s all you have to say.”  
He reached up then, stroking her cheek with his fingers. He may be tall for a Dark Elf, but he still stood a full head shorter than her. Even so, he carried himself with all of the authority of House Redoran.  
Without saying a word, he placed his hand on the back of her arm, guiding her to a small wooden bench. Then, with a simple touch at her shoulder, he bade her to sit. Standing in front of her, he slowly lifted off her helm.  
“I can do that. You don’t have to—,” but her words cut off as he brought his hand to her lips.  
“No. You’ve had a long week,” Lleril said firmly, placing the helmet on the floor with care. “Taking care of the distasteful errand that I myself gave you...” His voice trailed off as he turned back to her. Lleril had never seen her face before, and he was stunned by her natural beauty. She had a round, heart-shaped face, with a small, full mouth and big eyes. Even the long scar on her forehead didn’t detract from how cute he found her.  
“I was just doing my job,” she mumbled, looking down.  
“Nonsense,” he murmured, brushing her matted hair out of her face. Under the dirt he saw a blush creep onto her cheeks. Did she feel exposed without her armour? Or was she simply embarrassed at the filthy state she was in?  
“You saved my life,” he said quietly, “or had you forgotten?”  
His long deft fingers unbuckled her armour, sending her epaulets rattling to the floor. It wasn’t long before he had her jack loosened and lifted off, and she sat before him in her sweaty, blood-stained tunic.  
She spoke softly, looking down. “Thank you, Counselor. I can get the rest.”  
Lleril frowned. “You think me unworthy of the task?”  
Taken aback, the Dragonborn stammered to correct herself. “No, no! It’s just, I’m filthy. I must smell awful. It’s below your station to—”  
“Stop,” he cut her off.  
_This woman was going to drive him mad._ _   
_ She had accepted his gift, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied. Wasn’t that why he had come here tonight? A quiet voice in his head reminded him that he desired more.  
The Dunmer stood at a crossroads. This was his last chance to pull out, to tamper his desire and send her back to Ulfric. The High King was no doubt growing cranky waiting for her return.  
If he left now, it would leave this night forever unfinished. It would be a loose thread he would always pick at, wondering where it would have led them had he just kept pulling...  
He took a moment from his thoughts to let his eyes drift down her body. He could make out the shape of her breasts, her nipples pointing out under the thin linen. He bit his lip as she looked up at him, her eyes searching his.  
Lleril exhaled and pushed his hair back. Perhaps she too was curious where this winding path would take them.  
_Nine Hells,_ he thought as he leaned down to kiss her.  
  
This was his one chance to find out just how far she would let him go.


	2. The First Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lleril finds his patience tested again that night as he returns a favor for the Dovahkiin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the intro chapter was worth the build up- I wanted it to really pay off! Lleril is so fun to write dialog for. The smut is just getting started- I wrote five chapters of this shit!! Oh, also another note, the Dovahkiin in this story is unnamed for reasons that I’ll get into later~~

The Dragonborn’s lips were surprisingly soft. At first she seemed unable to move, but Lleril cupped her face with his hand and she responded, closing her eyes and leaning into him. He breathed her scent in, musky and damp, like the forest after a storm.  
The kiss was tender, almost chaste. You could hardly even call it a kiss, and yet there was an electricity in it that stirred something deep in his core. He allowed himself to linger briefly in the moment before he felt his heart quicken, and he tore himself away. The Nine knew he wanted more, but for now that would have to do.  
Running his fingers through his hair, Lleril stood up and straightened his shoulders. It was time to get down to business, and for that he didn’t want any distractions.  
“Now,” he said, looking down at her. “I don’t want to hear another word from you until I say so. Am I clear?”  
She nodded. Fair enough.  
“Stand,” he ordered next. The Dragonborn did as she was told.   
“Very good,” said the Dunmer, pleased with her obedience. He moved behind her, undoing her belt. Her greaves and boots were more difficult, but she let him work in silence.   
It took a few minutes, but soon the Dragonborn stood in front of him unarmoured, her linen tunic draped loosely over the curves of her impressive body.   
_That will have to go as well,_ Lleril thought and he lifted the shirt over her head. Their eyes met for a moment before he freed her of her smallclothes, and she turned her eyes to the floor. She blushed furiously, but didn’t protest once.  
Lleril paused to appreciate her unclothed form. Tracing a scar from her shoulder to her breast, he mused to himself at how many times she must have danced with death. This was a woman who feared nothing, living or dead. Yet here she stood before him, trembling under his touch. The Dunmer loved it.   
One would only have to glance at her muscular frame to know she was powerful, but seeing her like this he was delighted to find that parts of her body were surprisingly soft. His eyes rolled over her round abdomen, thighs and breasts…   
He couldn’t resist. Before dropping his hand, the Dunmer let his fingers brush lightly against a pink nipple. For a moment he imagined how it would feel pressed between his teeth...   
Prying himself from the thought, he took her arm and ushered her to the tub of steaming water. It was milky with soap and oils, fragrant with the scent of jasmine and moss-covered stones. Stepping in one leg at a time, she sighed with pleasure as she lowered herself into the hot water.   
Lleril let her enjoy the sensation— he knew a good soak was hard to come by, and for a warrior on the road, a hot bath was even rarer.   
Leaning back, she dipped her head under the water, soaking her face and hair. He enjoyed watching as she washed away the dirt and grime. _She had freckles,_ he noticed with delight.  
“How does it feel?” He asked, finally breaking their silence.   
“Amazing,” she breathed. “I never knew Dunmer were so hospitable!” She eased herself into a sitting position, smiling coyly over at him as she leaned forward and hugged her legs. “Something I’ll have to keep in mind next time I visit.”   
“Please do,” Lleryl said, pulling up the bench and taking a seat behind her. “I demand you spend more time in Raven Rock,” His tone was light, but he meant every word. He picked up a washcloth and began to scrub her shoulders. She was tense, but that came as no surprise.   
He massaged the nape of her neck with one hand while he washed her gently with the cloth, smiling to himself as he heard her softly hum with pleasure.   
“ _Mmmmm._ Gods, that’s incredible,” she breathed, and he smiled to himself. This woman felt so good to please. Lleril felt her loosen up as he worked at the knots in her neck and shoulders, then she let out a soft groan.   
The sound she made sent a ripple of excitement through him. Unable to resist, he pushed her wet hair to the side and leaned over to gently kiss her neck. He heard her breath catch as his teeth scraped over her skin, and in response she lifted her hand out of the water and ran it over his head, groaning again.   
Foregoing the washcloth, he circled his hand around to her front while sucking harder on her neck. She leaned back against him, and he groped at her breasts, feeling the nub of her nipple under his fingers. He squeezed, and bit down on her neck until she gasped. Lleril was a patient man, but at this he decided he had waited long enough.  
Moving his hand back, he unhooked his cloak and loosened his belt. She twisted around in time to see him stand up, watching as his robe and loose-fitting shirt fell in a pile on the floor. For a moment he was afraid she would stop him, but she said nothing as her eyes trailed down his body.   
The Dunmer slipped off his shoes and let his britches fall to the floor. He wanted this woman to see him, to see all of him. He stepped into the tub directly in front of her, watching her eyes widen as she glanced down his naked form.  
The side of his mouth curled up as her cheeks flushed again. Casually, he touched his cock, thumbing its swollen head as it rested semi-hard against his leg. She turned her face away, embarrassed.   
“Look at me,” Lleril spoke in a soft tone. She did as he asked, turning her curious eyes up to his lean, muscular body. He could feel his cock harden under her gaze as he lazily stroked himself.   
“Do you want to touch it?” He asked her, watching her breasts move as her breathing became heavier.   
“Can I?” She lifted a hand out of the water.  
“You’ve been very good tonight, so yes. You may,” he answered, his pulse quickening as she ran her fingers down his shaft.   
This beautiful creature wanted him, he was certain of it. So far she had shown herself willing to follow his commands.   
_She will bend to your every whim_ , a voice in his head told him, _you need only to ask._ The Dunmer’s heart beat faster and his lips curled into a smile. He was going to put her to the test. Keeping his voice low, he gave her his next direction.  
“Now. Open your mouth for me,” and just like that, she did as she was told.  
“That’s a good girl,” he purred, placing a hand on her cheek and running his thumb over her parted lips. She responded by licking his thumb, tentatively at first, then she wrapped her lips around it and started to suck. This had an immediate effect, and in a rush he felt his cock stiffen and stand upright.   
There was no turning back from here. With that thought, he placed the tip of his cock directly in front of her.   
Nudging her lips open, he trailed his thumb along her tongue, then moved his hand back to squeeze him at his root. Her tongue lapped around his head, licking circles around it. She moved down to his base, wetting his length with her saliva.   
The Dunmer groaned. He was enjoying her tongue, but he was greedy for more— so much for being patient. He was about to give her another order, but she took him into her mouth before he could tell her to suck.  
Lleril gasped at the sensation. His eyes rolled back as he squeezed them shut, losing himself in her warm, wet mouth. The way she sucked at him made his head light, Gods, it had been so long since he’d been serviced like this.   
Opening his eyes, he drank her in. Her full lips were wrapped around his erect shaft, and she slurped as he moved it gently within her mouth.   
“ _Mmmmh,_ you’re good at this,” he murmured, and she hummed in response.   
Her head nodded as she pleasured him, wrapping her fingers around his girth. She was more eager now, moving her hand in time with her mouth. It looked like she was enjoying herself.  
“Does my cock please you?” Lleril asked, watching her head bob up and down. It was an unfair question— she was in no position to respond. And yet something inside of him wanted to see her try.  
“I asked you a question,” he said coolly. “My cock, do you approve of it?” His breath was coming in harder now, but he managed to keep his tone steady.   
She made an approving “ _Mmmhm_ ,” sound, her mouth still too full to speak.   
“Good,” he growled at her, “then you won’t mind if I fuck your mouth.”   
With that he grabbed the back of her head with both hands and jammed his hips forward. He had to know just how deep she would take him. The Dunmer grunted as he pumped her mouth. He managed five or six thrusts before she gagged, drool dripping from her lips as he let her catch her breath.   
Lleril stuffed himself back in before she could stop him, but he was gentler now, and let her set the pace. She really did have an incredible mouth.   
The Dunmer reached down to pinch her nipple, feeling it harden between his grey fingers. She moaned softly around him as her tongue slid under his length. He thought he was rock hard before, but hearing the pleasure in her voice sent a new surge of blood to his groin. Dibella help him. He was starting to get close, and that wouldn’t do.   
Pulling away with a growl, Lleril stepped out of the washtub. The water was only lukewarm at this point, and besides— he didn’t want his new lover to get cold. She would need another bath after he was done with her anyway, he would see to that.   
She turned to him, confused, unsure of why he had just stopped. “Was that… Was I not satisfactory?” she asked almost innocently.   
Lleril chuckled, amazed that such a brutal warrior could be so damned lovely. “My dear, darling girl,” he reached out to her, “You performed marvelously. Come now, let’s get you out of that tub and into bed, shall we?”   
Taking his hand, she carefully stepped out of the water, allowing him to lead her to the fur-covered bed. Lleril wrapped a towel around her shoulders and dried her off as she sat on the edge of the bed. Catching her gaze, he held her there, hardly believing that this was happening.  
“You’ve done so much for me,” he mused. “Now let me do something for you.”   
Lleril had never bedded a Nord before. He had heard some of the Redoran guards in the Bulwark joke that their cunts were as cold as their winters— well, he was about to find out.  
  
He eased her down onto the bed, then kneeling in front of her, he spread her legs slowly apart. She took in her breath as he parted lips, brushing her downy hair to the side as he probed his tongue between them. She was soaking wet already, her folds glistening with juices. Gods, he had never even dared to hope that she would want him this much. The Dunmer greedily lapped at it, thirsty for the taste of her.   
Her breath hitched as he slowly slid a finger inside, all the while tonguing the hood that hid her clit. Hearing her start to whine, Lleril took the small pearl between his lips and started to suck at it. Her whines became a throaty moan, and she lifted her hips up, pressing her mound to his mouth. She wanted more, and he was happy to oblige.  
His second finger slid in as easily as the first, and he began to move them slowly in and out. He could see she would need some loosening up if she was to take his cock comfortably. The Dunmer smiled to himself as he circled his tongue around her nub. It felt good knowing it had been a while for the Dragonborn as well.  
Lleril sucked at her a bit longer, enjoying her taste before stealing a peek. She was laying back, playing with her breasts and making the most delicious noises. He sucked harder. He wanted this woman writhing in ecstacy, unable to make any noise at all. As he slid his tongue against her swelling clit, he felt more warm nectar slowly drip from her slit and run down his hand. She was soaking now— the visciuous liquid seeped from her slit, dripping down her ass to pool on the blanket under her. The Dunmer’s cock throbbed painfully at the sight of it.  
Not yet, he told himself, but his patience was wearing thin.   
Moving his fingers at a steady pace, he began to curl them upwards. He was searching for the bundle of nerves inside her that would be her undoing. He knew he had found it when her moans grew louder and she started to shake, her hips bucking reflexively.   
_That’s my girl_ , he thought.   
Keeping his rhythm steady, he increased his pressure. A lustful darkness grew inside him as the noises she made grew more urgent, along with the slapping sound of his hand as it hit her sopping cunt.  
Her fingers grasped at him in vain as he took her clit back into his mouth. He was sucking harder now, in time to the curl of his fingers. Lleril knew she was overwhelmed by the way she tried to push him off her, but her attempts were feeble. He wasn’t about to stop now.  
She was close. Her breath was coming in ragged pants, and for a few seconds she was quiet. She stayed like that a moment before finally letting out a loud cry. Lleril felt her tighten around his fingers as her stomach muscles convulsed, softening his rhythm as she shook under him. He moved his fingers in gradual circles until she found her way down again, murmuring in pleasure.  
Hoisting himself up, the Dunmer admired his handiwork, pushing his tongue against the back of his teeth in a satisfied grin. He had to admit, he was pleased with himself. He had felt this woman cum in his mouth, felt her shake uncontrollably at his touch— the sounds of her pleasure were intoxicating.   
By the Nine, he had needed this. And if he were to judge by the sounds she made it was clear that she had too, perhaps even more than him.  
Lleril wiped cum from his trim beard with the back of his hand and climbed onto the bed. A lock of hair fell in front of his eyes, but he didn’t bother to push it back. The Dragonborn gazed up at him, still breathless.   
“You…,” she murmured, “you’re incredible.”   
His smile widened at that, and he ran his tongue over his teeth. He knew it was a devilish, daedric grin, but he couldn’t help it. As he looked down at the woman lying prone with lust below him, he knew exactly what he wanted to do next.

  
_The night was just getting started._


	3. The Demand

The Dragonborn blinked as her vision focused. She was sprawled out on a fur blanket, the dangerously handsome Dunmer on his knees above her. He was naked, grinning, and hard as a rock.   
Closing her eyes, she tried to get a handle on her swirling thoughts. She never lost control like this, never. She was always calculating about who she shared a bed with, choosing lovers she knew she wouldn’t grow attached to. It wasn’t that she was unfeeling— quite the opposite. The one thing she knew she couldn’t risk losing was her heart.  
Her last rutting had been during the New Life Festival in Solitude. She had spent the night with a swarthy Imperial dressmaker who had barely said two words to her. In truth, she had liked her more than most. _Gods_ , had that really been almost a year ago? Ulfric had kept her so busy she hardly noticed how much time had flown by. She was his Bone Breaker, his Ice-Veins, his Snow Hammer. At this point almost everyone in Skyrim had heard tale of her exploits. Even if she felt like bedding someone, finding a companion who was unaware of her true nature was almost impossible. When they found out it was always the same— in their mind she would change from a woman to a Dovahkiin, a creature of legend, a prophesied warrior, an enemy to be feared. No, her fate was a solitary one, and she had long come to accept that.   
By all accounts she was more privileged than most. Her power commanded respect, and she was happy to wield it for causes she felt deserving. Even so, she always felt uncomfortable with the attention that her legacy brought. And if she never heard the song, ‘ _The Dragonborn Comes_ ’ again, it would be too soon.  
If she were being honest, most days she wanted to be invisible, to be stripped of her power, to live a mundane, normal life. Her heart ached knowing this could never be so, and yet here in this strange land, in bed with a Dunmer, she had become just that. Lleril had seen through all of her walls and defences, somehow knowing her secret needs and desires. By Talos, it had been an age since she had felt this way— since she’d felt wanted, and had wanted someone back in return. Her biggest fear was that it was too good to be true.  
“Open your eyes,” the Dunmer said. His voice was gentle, but there was a sternness to it that sent a shiver up her spine. The Counsellor was good at demanding her obedience— if he was anyone else she would have shouted them down the stairs, but for some reason it thrilled her when he told her what to do. She hardly knew the man, and yet here she was, obediently obeying his every command.   
Lleril stared down at her, his red eyes glowing in the firelight. His disheveled wheat colored hair, usually neatly swept to the side, now fell loosely in his face. He was methodically stroking his firm cock, a dark purple in contrast to his cool, grey skin. It curved slightly upwards in a way that made her ache with lust.   
She had enjoyed sucking on it, feeling it harden in her mouth. His precum had been salty, and she’d been disappointed when he pulled out. More than anything, right now she wanted to satisfy him— to make him shudder and cry out, as he had done for her. She wondered what he would like. Did he want her mouth again? Unsure and wanting to please him, she heard herself ask, “What would you have me do?”   
“My, my. You are eager,” the Dunmer said with a chuckle. His hair brushed against her face as he leaned down to kiss her. She could feel his hardness pressing on her belly as he ran his hand over her round breasts. He searched her face, a solemn expression coming over his sharp features.  
“The Gods have seen fit to give you a destiny that I could never begin to understand,” he said quietly. “You bear this burden every day, and I can see that it weighs heavy on you. But right now, I beg you, put it aside…,” his voice trailed off as his fingers circled around her areola, feeling her skin stiffen at his touch.   
“Because tonight...,” he continued, suddenly pinching her nipple between his fingers. She winced in pain, but he only squeezed harder as he growled in her ear, “Tonight you are my woman, and I will do with you what I please. Do you understand?”  
“Y… Yes, Counselor,” she whined, writhing under his touch. In the pain there was pleasure, a new sensation, and not entirely unpleasant.   
The Dunmer eased his grip, gently massaging the sting from her breast. The shock had left her head spinning. Then, leaning over, he pressed his lips to hers.   
It was a passionate kiss, wet and lustful. The kind of kiss she had spent countless lonely nights since she arrived in Raven Rock imagining. As he slid his tongue within her mouth, she reveled in the taste of him— a smoky mix of Dunmeric spices and comberries. They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other until he broke it off, giving them a moment to breathe.   
“I’ve wanted to do that since the moment I saw you step off that boat,” he mused softly, their foreheads touching. She couldn’t believe what he had just said. Surely he was toying with her, flattering her with those sweet words of his.  
“Don’t,” she mumbled, “Don’t just tell me things you think I want to hear. I couldn’t bear it if—”   
“You think me a liar?” he asked, his brow furrowing, “Do you doubt me?”  
“No, I just—,” but he didn’t let her finish.   
Grabbing a fistful of her auburn hair, he pulled her head back forcefully, a pained expression coming over his sharp features.  
“Doubt Azura if you want,” he said, his voice rough and stern, “Doubt Arkay’s Divine Will. Doubt your mighty Talos, but never, _never_ doubt me.” Through all this, his eyes never left hers. “Do I make myself clear?”   
Her heart was racing as she replied.   
“Yes,” she breathed as he held her head in place, “I was just— Since I set foot on Solstheim, I haven’t been able to think of anything but you.” She knew how silly her words sounded, but she was helpless to stop them as they came tumbling out of her mouth. “You’ve dominated my every thought, my every breath. I tried to distract myself, but something always pulled me back here, to Raven Rock, and to you—”   
He interrupted her again, this time with another kiss. Fervent and demanding, she felt his hands tremble as he held her head firmly to his. His mouth was hot and desperate, and she melted into him.   
The Dunmer’s tongue was intense, almost zealous. He dominated her mouth, searching, probing, licking her tongue. Their spit mingled as he breathed her in, and they both gasped for air as he finally released her from his grip.   
“So…,” he breathed, sucking at the sensitive skin on her neck, “we understand each other.” She exhaled with a groan of pleasure. This man was going to drive her crazy.   
Lleril took his time with her now, kissing and licking down her chest. He licked around her nipple, then, taking the hard nub between his teeth, began to flick it with his tongue. She ran her fingers through his hair, feeling the stubble of where he shaved it on the sides, running her fingers over his long, pointed ears. Everything about this man excited her, and watching his red tongue circle her breast made her ache to be taken by him. She could feel wetness start to seep from her core as he sucked at her, inducing a moan from her throat.   
Sensing her urge, he shifted above her— and she became acutely aware of the tip of his cock pressed firmly against her wet lips.   
“Counselor, I…” She looked up at him and trailed off, unsure of what she was going to say. That she wanted him? It wasn’t just that. He already knew that she’d wanted him since the moment she saw him standing on the docks, elegant and austere in his formal robes. His glowing eyes had pierced her armour then exactly as they did now.   
“Say it,” Lleril spoke in a tone both curious and impatient, the tip of his cock pressing against her. As he waited for her response, he slid it up to her clit and back down again, coating the underside of his shaft in her cum. He stared at her, unblinking. “Say what is on your mind.”   
She took a breath. Words had never been her strong suit, and today they were failing her amazingly.  
“It’s just that, well… I want you,” she mumbled feebly. Damn the Nine, why did this man make her so nervous, even now? Her answer appeared to amuse him however, because the corner of his lip curled up.   
“What do you want of me?” he asked. His voice shook slightly as he continued to tease her, his head pushing her open ever so slightly, “I’ll do anything you ask. Tell me what it is you want me to do.” His breathing was heavy now, his voice hushed.  
“I want... I want you inside of me, Counselor,” she breathed. She couldn’t believe the filthy things she was saying, but the Dunmer had a power over. Resisting him was impossible, and he knew it.   
The Dunmer’s smile widened in triumph as he heard her begin to beg.  
“Say it again,” he growled. He was slowly spreading her lips apart, coating his tip in her juices. “Tell me exactly how much you need my cock.”  
“Please… Please take me. Gods, I can’t wait any longer. I need you inside, to feel you moving in me,” she pleaded with him, meaning every word she said, “I want you to fill me up— Please, Counselor. I can’t take it. Fuck me, I’m begging you—,” and with those words he gave her what she asked for.   
In one swift, powerful motion he lifted one of her legs to her chest and buried his entire length in her core, grunting as he bottomed out. She cried with the shock of pain as she was suddenly filled, his cock stretching her apart.  
She gasped as he pulled out smoothly, then thrust himself in again, and again, and again. His smile was gone, replaced with a carnal snarl as he took her for himself. With each pump of his shaft, he buried himself to the hilt before drawing back out. She whined as he did this over and over, the rhythm an unrelenting pulse that only made her wetter.  
Gradually the pain turned to a hot ball of pleasure. The feeling mounted as he sustained his pace, her breasts bouncing with each forceful thrust. He growled as he bit down on her nipple, and she gasped from both the thrill and the pain. She didn’t want him to stop, but she was desperate for a break from the intensity.   
Lleril paused almost instinctively, holding himself deep inside her, rocking her gently back and forth on his cock. Sweat dripped down his temple as he looked over her face, his breath heavy, matching hers. His dark skin glistened and his muscles flexed, then he released her leg and resumed his rhythm.   
Grabbing a handful of her hair in his fist, he kissed her again, forcibly taking what he wanted. As he pummeled her, his tongue in her mouth was the only thing that kept her from screaming. The Dunmer was hungry, and she was his feast.  
He shifted his angle, and soon he was hitting a bundle of nerves at her core she didn’t even realize was there before tonight. His shaft ran over it as he pushed inside of her, and again as he dragged himself out. Her breath came faster, the sensation almost overwhelming.   
A loud moan tumbled from her lips as he slowed his pace, his face tense with concentration. He moved his head down to her breast again, sucking at her pink nub while he continued to pump his cock into her. She could feel another orgasm building deep within her as her moans turned to urgent cries.   
Sensing the change in her breathing, the Dunmer gave her his next command, speaking roughly into her ear.   
“Cum for me.”  
Her breath hitched in her throat— _Gods_ , she wanted to. She was right there on the edge, and with every unyielding thrust she got closer. He ordered her again, more forcefully this time.   
“ _Cum on my cock_.”   
Her breathing was coming in short, ragged pants. Closing her eyes, she almost lost herself, but Lleril’s voice pulled her back to him again.   
“I want you to cum,” he said, quickening his pace. He urged her closer still, growling, “I need you to cum for me, _now_ ,” and with a silent cry, she did as he commanded and spilled over the edge. The pressure that had been swelling inside her finally burst, and she moaned as waves of pleasure washed over her.   
“Good girl,” he grunted as she reflexively tightened around his cock. She shook under him, unable to control herself as each thrust of his cock sent a new wave through her. She whimpered as the Dunmer rode her harder, driving after his own release. His teeth were bared in a snarl as his pumps quickened. He was close.  
“Lleril,” she murmured, and he let out a deep groan. Shuddering inside of her, he quickly pulled out, spilling his seed on her clit.   
Shaking and out of breath, he collapsed on top of her. They stayed like that in silence, tangled up in each other while they drifted back down to Tamriel.  
His next kiss was slow, long and deep, and she savoured the taste. He traced his finger along her stomach and she giggled. Every nerve was on high alert, and even the slightest touch sent tingles through her body.  
“So, the mighty Dragonborn is ticklish,” he murmured, smiling lazily at her.   
She sighed contentedly and stretched, still basking in the afterglow of the incredible fuck he had given her. She was about to thank him for it too, when she felt the slow trickle of cum drip down her pussy. All at once she remembered how she had begged him for it. A warm blush crept across her cheeks as the filthy words she had said echoed in her mind. What had possessed her to talk like that? Yes, it had been a turn on, but it was so unlike her—  
“What is it?” Lleril was staring at her, a smile playing at his lips.  
“It’s nothing,” she replied, but she knew straight away he saw straight through her.  
“You’re embarrassed?” He phrased it as a question, but it was more like a statement of fact.   
She looked to the side, awkwardly avoiding his gaze. “I’m just not used to this kind of attention,” she admitted, “It’s just kind of new to me, that’s all.”   
“Huh. We’ll have to work on that,” his said, pushing himself up to his knees. Then, without notice, he hopped off the bed.   
“Turn over,” he called to her as he walked towards the tub.  
Surprised, she blinked. “What?” He couldn’t possibly— Not again, so soon.  
“I said, turn over.” His voice was still playful, but had a harder edge to it. “You know how much I hate repeating myself.”   
“Why? What are you doing?” she asked, curiosity getting the better of her. As Lleril bent over to rifle through his robes, she propped herself up in her elbows to get a better look at him.   
Everything about the Dark Elf was exquisite, from his velvety voice to his sharp features, and the graceful way he moved. Hell, when she made it back to Windhelm she might set up a shrine to that perfect ass of his. She sat in wonder, still amazed that this incredible creature had set his desires on her.  
“A-ha, here we are,” Lleril exclaimed. He took something small and shiny from the pocket of his robe, but she couldn’t quite make out what it was.  
“Come back to bed,” she said to him. She wanted to relax, but when he turned towards her she saw the look in his eyes, and she knew he had other things in mind.  
“You silly woman,” the Dunmer smirked at her, “You didn't think I was done with you already, did you? Not after how long I’ve waited to finally have you for myself.”  
He walked slowly towards the bed, his eyes never leaving her.  
“Now. Will you turn over, or will I have to ask you a third time?”  
He didn’t have to tell her again. Rolling over on her hands and knees, the Dragonborn did as she was told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in this chapter I tried to touch on part of the reason I kept the Dragonborn nameless- she yearns for anonymity, wanting to only be seen as a woman. The idea was if I took her name away she would kind of get her wish, to be seen as a woman in the eyes of the reader as well as the man she’s fallen for (Lleril, sigh! ~<3) I wanted to wait until I got to her POV chapter to comment on it! 
> 
> Anyway the other reason is in the game the MC’s name is rarely used except in letters and stuff, so I felt like for this story, it might be kind of fun to try and give that feeling too! Hope it works >_<;;; 
> 
> I still have two more chapters of smut planned for the poor Dovahkiin! Hope you are enjoying the ride!


	4. The Unexpected Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the Mallory brothers. Delvin is the one I’d pine after, but Glover is the one I’d end up in bed with. Why am I like this.

Lleril watched as the Dragonborn got down on all fours, just as he had instructed. Her ample breasts and round belly hung beneath her as she presented her thick, supple ass to him.   
_She looked quite nice like that,_ he thought to himself, _bent over like a common wench._   
As he made her wait the Dunmer noticed how her hips shifted nervously. He was sure she had no idea what he had planned, and he grinned as he turned the items over in his fingers...  
His heart beat faster as he looked down at the sparkling soul gem. He had found it as a youth, exploring an ancient Draugr crypt— it’d been too big to carry around as a good luck charm, so he had kept it tucked away in a box of keepsakes. However, an illustration he came across recently in an Altmer tome about Dibella worship had sparked a diabolical idea.   
He had taken the gem to Mallory, the local Blacksmith, instructing him to shape it into an oblong sphere roughly the size and shape of an egg. He then had him affix an ebony knob to one end, fashioned with ore from their very own mine. Mallory hadn’t guessed at the gem’s purpose— Lleril almost thought to tell him, but decided at the last minute to keep its true use a secret.   
_Dibella bless the Altmer,_ he thought. Those high elves think themselves so dignified, but he knew they were secretly into some wild shit.  
Along with the gem, he also had the forethought to grab a small vial of oil, purchased from the local alchemist. He had taken these items from his desk on a lust-filled whim, not actually believing he would get the opportunity to put them to use. Had he fantasized about it? Gods yes, every night for the last month. Every day too, if he was being honest. He was starting to think this soul gem was a lucky charm after all.   
Situating himself comfortably behind her, he quietly placed the items on the floor. The Dragonborn looked over her shoulder at him, curious. She would find out soon enough.  
Without a word, he pulled his arm back and slapped her ass with a loud _crack!_ He enjoyed her yelp of pain, and the way her plump butt jiggled under his hand.   
“That’s for making me ask you twice.”   
He spanked her again, harder this time. She cried out, her breasts swaying beneath her from the force of his hand. Knowing it must sting, he rubbed soothing circles over the reddening skin.  
“You’ll remember to do what I say the first time I ask now, won’t you?”   
He heard her whimper a soft “Yes,” which he decided wasn’t loud enough.  
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you. Say it again.”  
“I promise. I won’t make you ask twice again, Counselor,” she said, louder this time.   
“Good girl.” He spoke coolly, squeezing her fleshy, pink ass in his hand. It truly delighted him— both her ass, and how she called him Counselor. On anyone else’s lips it sounded dull, mundane— but coming from her? _Simply erotic._ He was smiling wider now, enjoying their new game.   
Pushing his hair back, he parted her cheeks to get a better view of her cunt. He had seen it when he’d gone down on her, but he hadn’t gotten a really good look at it. He aimed to memorize every curve and fold in preparation for the lonely winter months ahead.  
She wiggled her hips nervously under his gaze.   
“Do you have to stare at me like that?” she asked, flustered. “I feel so… exposed.”   
He wanted to tell her that her pussy was perfect— the way it tasted and felt, how it had milked his cock when she came. He wanted to say that everything about her aroused him, and that she had absolutely nothing in the world to be embarrassed about. Instead, he pulled his hand back and let it fly.  
He slapped her ass again, making sure to hit both cheeks. Two, three, four more times. He spanked her until his hand stung. Each time his hand came down she cried out, whimpering that she would be good, begging for him to stop.   
He snapped up at her, “From now on you will do what I say without questions. Do I make myself clear?”  
“Yuh-yes,” she stammered, her breasts bobbing back and forth under her. He reached forward, grabbing one of her dangling nipples and pinching it, making her cry out again.  
“ _Yes what?_ ” he hissed.   
“Yes, Counselor,” she winced in pain, as he tightened his grip, twisting her sensitive nub between his fingers.   
“You will not question me again. If I want to look at your dripping quim, I will look. If I want to fuck your pretty little mouth again, I will do so without asking. Your body is mine tonight, and I will use you as I please. Do you understand?”   
“Yuh— yes, Counselor. I understand, you can do,” she stammered through the words, “whatever you want with me.”   
Satisfied that he had made his point, the Dunmer released her nipple, now swollen and red in his grasp. He resisted the sudden urge to suck on it, returning instead to his original position behind her.   
Now that he knew it embarrassed her he spread her cheeks wider this time, taking his time to inspect every inch. The beating from his cock has left her pussy swollen and pink, still glistening with a mix of their milky cum.   
_Tonight’s memories should keep her warm when she’s back in Windhelm_ , _at least,_ he chuckled to himself.  
He heard her whimper again, and he sighed loudly.  
“My dear, I know you want to please me,” he said, trying to disguise his smile, “and you have, _very_ much.” He ran his fingers lazily up and down her slit as he spoke, “And in return, I want to do something to you that I’ve never done to anyone else.” He glanced down at the gem that lay his feet.   
_Soon,_ he promised himself.  
Two of his long, grey fingers grazed lazy circles around her clit. Then, dipping them between her lips to coat them in her honey, he drew them out and licked them clean. He was pleased to find how wet she still was. This might be easier than he’d originally thought.  
Spreading her cheeks wide, he plunged his tongue inside her. He let himself wander over her folds, probing her, taking time to explore. Earlier he had been solely focused on her pleasure— now he was going to take his time and enjoy himself.  
The Dunmer coaxed her to produce fresh nectar, stroking her clit and eagerly sucking up everything that leaked out of her. Spitting it out, he massaged it over her puckering hole with his tongue. She hummed in pleasure as he rimmed her, tickling her ass until he thought she was ready. Then, rubbing his thumb on her, he began to press it inside.  
She made a different noise at this new intrusion, of surprise or pain he wasn’t quite sure. He pushed his thumb in harder, watching her hands grab at the blanket until her knuckles turned white.   
Keeping the pressure on, Lleril turned his attention to her clit again, sucking at it, teasing it with his teeth. She continued to whine as he pressed further into her ass— she had taken it nearly to the knuckle now. It was a process. He wanted to get her ready with as little discomfort to her as possible.   
Of course, a little discomfort was bound to happen. By the way she was responding, he reckoned that no one had ever fucked her ass before. He reminded himself again to go slow and steady, and, ignoring her pleas to stop, he persisted in working his thumb in further. Finally, with a cry that she couldn’t take it anymore, he relented, pulling his thumb out and licking to soothe it.   
“It’s too m-much for me, Counselor. I’m s-sorry,” she whimpered, her body shaking as he massaged her quivering hole.   
“There, there,” he purred, massaging circles with his thumb. “You’re doing so well.”  
“Please, Counselor. I don’t think I can take it, it’s too intense,” she pleaded from the pile of furs she had buried her face in.   
Lleril ignored her.   
“I hope you didn’t forget,” he said, pushing his thumb into her again, “that your body is mine tonight.” This time it slid easily up to the knuckle. She gasped and let out a throaty moan.  
“My dear, you have to relax. Don’t clench so much. Breathe in… And out…,” He did so as he said it and she followed suit, breathing with him. Deep, soothing breaths. In, and out. After she had calmed he decided it was time.   
“I know you want to do this for me, so why don’t you be a good girl and stick your beautiful ass up in the air,” Lleril said, picking up the gem. “I promise to be as gentle as I can.”   
She complied, arching her back to present herself to him, her breasts and head pressed to the bed. She was ready. It was time.  
The gem gleamed a deep blue as he placed its rounded tip against her pink cunt. The cold smoothness of it shocked her, and though she took in her breath, she didn’t pull away. He dipped it into her pussy, wetting it before sliding it up to her ass.  
“Wh- what is that?” she asked, her voice wavering.   
“Oh, just a little toy I had Mallory fashion for me,” he smiled wickedly. “I was hoping I’d get to share it with you.” He exhaled as he slowly pressed the smooth plug against her, licking his lips as he watched her tight hole stretch around it. She let out a groan so deep it made his cock ache.  
“Almost there,” he coaxed her, though he wasn’t sure she could hear him over all the noise she was making.  
She was close to taking it all in. With one final, firm push, he watched the gem disappear inside the hole, leaving just the ebony knob poking out of her. The sounds she made were driving him mad with lust.   
The Dunmer looked down at his throbbing dick, as hard as the ebony ore sticking out of her. It stood upright and pulsing, and he positioned himself at her entrance. He was ready to take her a second time.   
“You look so good all plugged up like that,” he told her as she whimpered, “I might just fuck you all night.”   
Her core was hot and wet as he entered her again. He moved slowly this time, with a methodical deliberation. He wanted her to feel every inch of him, to claim her, to make her know that she was his. She would ache for his cock back in Windhelm, and at night when she would rub her clit she’d be thinking of his tongue.   
He cruelly flicked at the ebony plug sticking out of her ass, making her whimper with every gradual push. He took great pleasure in toying with the gem, gently pulling it out, then watching her ass suck it back in. Each time he did this she would clench tighter around him, making him groan with pleasure as he eased his cock slowly in and out. Soon she started to move her hips with his, urging him on. He made a silent prayer to Dibella that he could last the hour.  
With great control, he steadied his voice and asked, “Does it feel good?” He wanted to hear her try and talk with his cock deep inside her.  
“Yes, Gods, yes. Aah...,” her breath hitched, “you feel so good, Counselor,” her words punctuated with groans.  
He loved hearing her struggle to talk— it made her pleasure that much more evident. He asked another question as he slid his shaft out, then slammed it back in. He was going to make this as difficult for her as he could.  
“Do you like having— Unhf,” he grunted, “both of your holes filled?”   
“Y—Yuuuuuhhhg...,” her words melted into a long groan. He knew he wasn’t being fair, but where was the fun in that?  
“Do you want me to fuck your tight little asshole next?” He teased the plug out as he asked this next question, keeping pressure on it as he drove himself home.  
“I wuh— I w-want… Mmmuuugh,” she stammered and moaned, unable to get any more words out. Oh how he loved making her speechless.  
“Let me repeat myself,” Lleril spoke dangerously. He emphasized each word of his next sentence by slamming his hips against her.  
“Do. You. Want. My. Cock. In. Your. Ass,” he ended the sentence with a spank for punctuation. She was positively mewling now, and he relished it— she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to.   
“I’ll rephrase it,” he said, his breath coming in hard. “After I’m done with your pussy, the next thing I’m going to do is fuck your tight little ass.” He ran his hands down her lower back, grabbing her hips as he eased his pace.   
“Hell, I might even cum in it,” he growled, watching his length slide in and out of her. “Would you like that? Would you like to feel me fill your ass full of cum?”  
“I want— ,” she said, hardly managing to speak, “I want to— to feel you cum in my ahugh— ass, C-counselor.”   
“Patience, my pet,” he laughed breathlessly, “I’ll get to it, eventually.”   
Now he wished there were two of him so he could fuck that sweet mouth of hers as well. What kind of noises would she make with a dick at both ends? He squeezed her ass, indulging the fantasy as he tugged at the plug in her butt. He wanted to fill her completely. He wanted to fuck every hole she had.  
A loud knock at the upstairs door interrupted his thoughts. The Dragonborn’s eyes widened, her moans dropping to whimpers as whoever was there knocked again. Whoever it was, they weren’t going away. Irritated at the intrusion, the Dunmer slowed his movements.  
“What do you want?!” He barked.  
“Hello? Leril?” The deep voice rang out as the door creaked open,  
Mallory. Of course. That lunk of a Blacksmith. What in nine Hells did he want at this hour?   
“I remembered the thing I wanted to ask you! You told me to find you, and I saw you come in here,” the Breton walked into the house and closed the front door as he yelled, “Hope I’m not bothering you!”   
His first instinct was to order the man away— any questions he had could surely wait until tomorrow. However, as his large footsteps sounded on the stone above them, Dibella slipped him an idea.  
“Come in, we’re down here,” he called to him.   
“What? He can’t see me like this!” the Dragonborn protested, trying to hide her face in the blanket as the Breton’s boots echoed on the stairs.  
“Trust me, my sweet,” Lleril reassured her, stroking her backside, “Mallory is a good man, he won’t tell anyone. Besides…,” he smiled deviously, “it could be fun.  
Lleril turned his head in time to see the burly Blacksmith enter the room. He realized how awkward this might be, so he took great effort and to control the tone of his voice.  
“Ah, Mallory, you’re just in time,” he addressed the Breton as if they expected him. “Why don’t you come over here and join us? She could use another cock, and I’ve heard yours would give the Bulwark a run for its gold.”   
To say the man looked surprised would be an understatement. Mallory thought it over the proposal, running his hand over the stubble on his head. After a pause he shrugged, shook off his vest, and strode towards them. 

_Now things were getting interesting._


	5. The Voyage Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here comes a new challenger!

Glover Mallory thought he’d seen everything.  
Growing up in the ratways of Riften didn’t make for the most comfortable childhood, but his brother Delvin had joined the illustrious Thieves Guild, and had brought him along for the ride. There in the Ragged Flagon, the stocky Breton had found himself in more sticky situations than he cared to (or could, for that matter) remember.   
Being a thief had been fun, but let’s be honest— he was never very good at it. He’d spent one too many nights in the Riften jail, and picked up one too many bad habits along the way. Thieving for him had been a self-destructive vocation, so when he discovered that his talent for working metal far exceeded his skill as a pickpocket, he’d jumped at the chance for a career change. In that respect, you could say that smithing had saved his life.  
Metalworking eventually led him to Raven Rock, where things had taken a turn for the humdrum. These days, his idea of a good night out consisted of a flagon or two of Matze at the Retching Netch, followed by penty of water and an early night. Not that he minded— life always managed to be full of little surprises.  
Take tonight, for example. He had come here hoping to ask Lleril about…  
About…  
As the Breton took in the scene on the bed, he completely forgot his question again. Here was Lleril Morvayn of house Redoran- High Counselor of Raven Rock and ruler of Solstheim- buck naked, and fucking the damn Dovahkiin! He had seen this woman fell a dragon with nothing but an ebony war axe and a roar that split the heavens, and now she was bouncing on the end of the Dunmer’s dick?! _The lucky bastard_.  
“Ah, Mallory, you’re just in time,” from the tone of his voice you’d never guess he was hilt-deep in pussy. He might as well have been inviting him in for a spot of comberry tea. Had they been expecting him?  
“Why don’t you come over here and join us?” Lleril continued, “She could use another cock, and I’ve heard yours would give the Bulwark a run for its gold.”   
The Blacksmith had to take a minute to process everything. He looked up at the Dovahkiin— she was enjoying herself, no doubts there. He recalled a time when she was new in town... She’d just bought a dozen ebony arrows, and he’d winked at her. Winked at her! The Dovahkiin! Even asked her out for a damned drink! He had felt himself quite the fool after seeing her in action. A woman like her could never have eyes for a lowly smith like him…  
He rubbed the stubble on his shaved head, briefly reliving his embarrassment. Hearing a soft moan, he looked up to see the Dunmer’s hips slowly grinding against her, those red eyes of his fixed squarely on him. They were waiting for his answer.   
Just then, something Delvin once told him popped to his mind— _If you can’t beat ‘em, fuck ‘em!_ ...Or something to that effect. With that thought Mallory shrugged, shook off his vest and walked towards the bed. Why the hell not?  
The Blacksmith’s cock was swollen and tight in his pants by the time he had most of his clothes off. Lleril leaned back as he approached the pair.  
“Recognize this?” he grinned, pulling on something black and shiny sticking out of the Dovahkiin’s ass. The moans she was producing were making his dick throb.  
“By the eye of Hermaeus Mora!” Mallory swore, “That’s the pendant I fixed up for you, not a fortnight ago!” He watched transfixed as it pulsed in her ass. Now that he had seen its use, he added, “I don’t even want to know where you found the diagram for that.”  
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Lleril said, smirking. “Now tell me. Do you want to get your cock sucked by the softest mouth in Skyrim?”  
The Dunmer’s crude words surprised him, but he knew the Dovahkiin must be enjoying herself. If she wasn’t, she’d have turned them both to piles of ash by now. Still though, he was a gentleman.  
“Only if she, uh, wants to suck it,” he answered.   
Lleril bent over and toyed with one of her nipples as he spoke to her, “My dear, did you hear him? Mallory asked if you want him to fuck your mouth.”  
She looked up at the Blacksmith, dazed and panting. He knew the outline of his dick was visible through his britches, and he felt it growing. The Dovahkiin saw it, moaned, and nodded.  
“ _Mmmgh_ , yes, Gods, I would love to,” she winced as Lleril pinched the pink nub. “ _Nnngh_! Auh— I want his dick in my mouth! Please, Counselor. I need it!” Her whines grew louder until The Dunmer released his grip and resumed fucking her.  
“She wants you,” he licked his lips, “so why don’t you give it to her?”  
Mallory touched his dick. It usually took a while to get hard, but the Dovahkiin’s begging had roused him almost immediately. He gave himself a squeeze. Even if this was just a sex game between the two of them, he could roll with it. Hell, why not?  
Lleril was gesturing for him to get on the bed, so he kicked off his pants and did just that. He may not be the biggest in Skyrim, but his impressive girth more than made up for his average length.  
The Dovahkiin's eyes widened as he placed his cock in front of her. Parting her lips, she licked around its bulbous tip as it hung there, twitching as she lapped at it. He wondered how she was going to fit it in that cute mouth of hers.  
Mallory’s heart beat faster as she opened wide, sucking on his head with a moan. It was a tight squeeze alright, but she was taking it like a champ.  
He grew harder as she sucked at him, his dick slowly inching deeper into her mouth. Her tongue worked the back of his length, up and down until his heavy shaft stood upright and throbbed, covered in her spit. Through it all she moaned as Lleril took her from behind, never taking his red eyes off of them.  
The Dunmer was right. Her mouth felt amazing.

* * *

The Blacksmith towered over her, holding his massive dick mere inches from her mouth. His broad, muscular shoulders tapered down to a sturdy, trim waist. His chest and arms were hairy, and tanned from years of outside labor. The Dragonborn had always been a big girl, but in front of this hulk of a man she actually felt petite.   
Mallory had caught her eye a few times in town. Since they met, she had made a habit of stopping by his bench every time she needed new equipment. The Breton was always pleasant, and often gave her a good price on arrows. She had warmed to him after finding out his brother, Delvin, was a mutual friend. They looked similar now that she thought about it, but Mallory was definitely the bigger and more handsome of the two.  
For a moment she regretted not going for that drink with him, but that hardly seemed to matter anymore. Now here she was— bent over on all fours, getting fucked from behind, and worried that his fat cock wouldn’t fit in her mouth.  
It wasn’t even completely hard and the thing still intimidated her. Prodded on by her Counselor’s thrusts, she started moistening it with her saliva, licking it and easing it in between her lips. The Blacksmith’s scent was intoxicating, like leather, coal, and liquor. She sucked at his head, easing him in and out of her mouth as she got used to his girth.  
With his big hands Mallory brushed her hair to the side, and she knew the Counselor had wanted a better view as she sucked on the meaty shaft. Lleril had known all along what she had needed. She relished the excitement of having two cocks inside her, one at each end, reveling in how helpless she felt. She was all-powerful, always in control— it was a revelation to have that taken away from her in a safe place, even just for one night.  
Lleril was keeping his rhythm steady, pulling on the smooth plug he had stuffed in her ass. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt before, and she couldn’t stop the noises it made her make. The thought of him watching her drool around Mallory’s thick member made her so wet, she could feel it dripping down her leg as all of her holes were filled.  
All at once the Dunmer slammed his hips against her, reaming her with a wet slapping sound. The impetus of his movement sent her bouncing forward, and she gagged as the Breton’s dick was forced down her throat.  
The Smith’s hands were on her head then, holding it down as she made a muffled cry. From behind she heard Lleril groan as he drove inside her. She tried to speak, but the sound was muffled by the slab of meat stuffed between her lips. Her eyes began to water. One of them grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, yanking her head back as Mallory’s dick dropped from her mouth. She gasped for breath, but just as quickly as it had fallen out, the Smith had shoved it back in again.  
“Take it,” he grunted at her, and she sucked at it eagerly.  
The Breton had started to leak salty precum, and she swallowed it down, thankful. She was aware of the carnal fog that had permeated her thoughts, and regaining focus was almost impossible. The Dunmer’s rhythm dominated her, and as much as she was tempted to succumb to it she forced herself to focus.  
Wrapping her hand around the Blacksmith’s girth with one hand, she moved it in time with the thrusts he made into her mouth. He was gently pushing her head up and down as she sucked on him with loud slurps, jerking him off as her tongue pressed against the back of his shaft. She felt hands tighten, grabbing at her as his breath started to come in short pants.  
“I— _Unghh_ , I’m so close—,” he groaned.  
Lleril put a stop to that. “Not yet, you don’t,” he snapped.  
The Dunmer pulled out of her so swiftly it made her gasp. Feeling like she had earned a break, she let the Breton's cock fall from her mouth and collapsed on the bed. She felt good. Better than she had felt in a long time, in fact. She’d even got used to the strange plug, now a pleasant pressure in her ass.  
Smiling, she opened her eyes to see the ruggedly handsome Mallory looking at her, thumbing his swollen head. He was still rock hard. She looked at her Counselor now, wondering what he wanted her to do next.  
“You did so well, my dear,” Lleril purred at her, his approval sending a shiver through her core. “Now be a good girl and come clean me off,” he ordered, “and afterwards we'll reward you for being so obedient.”  
“Yes, Counselor,” she obeyed, picking herself back up to her hands and knees. She crawled over to the Dunmer, her heart beating in her chest as she took in his erect form. Placing her hands on his hips to steady her, she began to bathe his phallus, worshiping it with her tongue. He let her work, placing his hand lightly on her head and gazing down at her from lidded red eyes.  
“ _Mmmgh_ ,” he sighed, “that’s a good girl,”  
Mallory knelt behind her, his large fingers exploring her folds until he found her clit. Sucking at the Dunmer’s balls, she moved her hips as the Blacksmith teased her, playing with the plug and licking his fingers.  
“ _Gods_ , you’re so wet,” he grunted from behind her, evidently impressed.  
She could feel her juices seep out and slowly drip down her leg. Mallory put his wide lips to her pussy and he sucked, drinking down her cum. Her back arched, and she moaned around the Dunmer’s cock as his big tongue filled her. Before tonight, she had no idea she could become this aroused.  
“You did so well, my pet,” Lleril breathed as she finished. Stroking her face, he traced his fingers over her lips that were still wrapped around him. The Counsellor knew how she ached to please him. Lifting her up, he pulled her body close against his and tilted his head up to kiss her.  
“I hope you’re enjoying your last night in Raven Rock,” he murmured.  
“Very much,” she smiled back demurely. “More than you know.”  
“Back to Skyrim, huh? Too bad for us,” the Blacksmith said, wiping his mouth with the back of his forearm, “but I’m glad I got a taste of you before you left.”  
“Ah, but you haven’t even sampled the best part yet,” Lleril said to him. “Why don’t you lie down?”   
The Dunmer placed his hands on the Dovahkiin’s wide hips, turning her around. Mallory had eased his large frame down onto the bed, gripping his thick shaft as he looked up at her eagerly.   
“Now, my dear,” Lleril instructed, “spread your beautiful legs and climb on top of him. It’s high time the Blacksmith’s cock had a taste of your juicy little cunt.”  
“Yes, Counsellor,” she said again willingly. She was ready to feel full again.   
The Dunmer murmured, “That’s my girl,” as he helped her mount the large Smith. She braced her hands on his burly chest as her thighs stranded his, moving her hips to wet his erection. Mallory raised his hand to gently push a lock of hair out of her face, his brown eyes shining as he looked up at her.  
“Gods, she’s beautiful,” he spoke to Lleril, as if she weren’t even there. “How did we get so lucky tonight?”  
“I know,” the Dunmer replied from behind her. His hands helped position the tip of the Blacksmith at her entrance, and the plug moved inside of her as she slowly eased herself down his shaft. _Talos, he was thick._  
The Breton grunted, muscles tensing as he entered her. His calloused hands moved to grab at her breasts, then he sat up to take one of them greedily in his mouth. He was grunting as he spread her apart. She groaned with him, rocking her hips as she took him all the way in. It was a challenge, but she was rewarded for her efforts. He felt incredible.  
Leaning forward, she lifted her hips to ease his length out, then pushed him back in again. She slowly rode him like that until she got used to his girth, holding his head to her as he sucked at her breasts. His tongue was sloppy and wet as it circled her nipple, and he groaned loudly each time she pushed him inside.   
“You look so good riding his shaft like that,” came a voice from behind her. The Dunmer languidly stroked himself as he stared from below his brow, “but I’m done watching.” With that he placed a hand on her back to ease her gently forward.   
Mallory grunted like a bear through his gritted teeth as she pressed her body to him. His brown eyes darkened with lust and he slammed his hips upwards, stuffing her full with his meat.   
“Gods. You— _hnnf_ — you’re so f—fucking tight,” he said between grunts.  
Their faces inches apart, she pressed her mouth to his, sliding her tongue between his lips. He let out a guttural moan and opened for her, probing her mouth aggressively with his long tongue. She guessed he had just come from the tavern, because he tasted of mazte, hopps and smoked meat— the Blacksmith was delicious. He wrapped his arms around her waist as he buried his cock in her with a groan. Behind her she felt the Dunmer’s hands on her ass, spreading her cheeks wide.  
“Easy, now,” Lleril said, speaking to the both of them.  
Breathing hard, the Blacksmith slowed his pace, holding himself as still as he could while Lleril pulled at the plug that had been nestled inside her. With a tug, it popped neatly out.  
The Dragonborn let out a whine, suddenly empty. She almost begged for him to put it back, but stopped short when she felt a cold, viscous liquid ooze down her crack. Turning her head, she saw the Counselor firmly gripping his solid cock at its base. She bit her lip, then felt his tip press against her newly vacated ass. He was poised to enter her.  
“I promise I’ll go slow.” 

* * *

The Dunmer was ravenous. Watching this beautiful woman fuck the girthy Blacksmith, hearing her moan as she rode him— how could he not be starving?   
He had started the night with the wish to fill her completely, to give her pleasure she never even dreamt of. Now they were about to do just that. Mallory was the perfect man for the job, too. Lleril knew him to be honorable, handsome and kind, and he was certain that the Smith appreciated her almost as much as he did. Almost.  
The Dragonborn’s cunt was slick and shiny as he poured the oil over her tender hole. It made her wetter, and the sight of her glistening ass excited him even more.  
Sliding the head of his member around on it, he began to push. She moaned, her hips bobbing slightly as Mallory slowly rocked her on his dick. For the life of him, that man could not hold still. Pushing harder, it slipped easily inside. The plug had done its job.  
He teased his head out and back in a few times, then with more vigor he inched his length deeper. She groaned loudly as he gradually sunk himself down into her tight hole, and Mallory resumed his thick pumps. She was moaning and grinding her hips as if to spur him on. Gods, he didn’t realize the promise to go slow would be so difficult to keep. Against his efforts to control himself, Lleril let out a low moan. Boethiah, her ass was so tight.  
Lleril had her mewling as he moved his hips in small circles. With each forward motion he eased himself further in. Impatient, he looked down at his cock— it was only halfway there. This was torture. He needed to go deeper.  
The Dunmer snarled. A wanton urge overcame him then, and without heed or warning he selfishly pushed himself the rest of the way home. She shuddered as he took her, feeling half-possessed as he watched his cock disappear, swallowed completely by her hungry ass. It took all of his willpower to keep his pace steady. He pulled himself out inch by inch, and as he felt his head tug at her entrance, he plunged himself back in again.  
The Blacksmith was thrusting his hips upwards, desperate to keep his fat member buried in her core. She tried to move away, but Mallory’s strong arms held her in place as their cocks drove into her.  
“ _Unngh_ ,” he heard Mallory groan.  
The Breton grunted loudly with every thrust like some kind of wild beast. Two of his meaty fingers were in her open mouth, drool running down his hand. A look of utter ecstasy was on her face— she was so enthralled that she couldn’t even manage to suck on them.  
Lleril grabbed her waist with both hands and pulled her onto him. He sped up his pace until he moved in tandem with the Breton. Her tongue was lolling out of her mouth now, and her head hung limply as they rocked her body between the two of them. As he withdrew his shaft the Blacksmith would slam into her, then drag himself out in time for the Dunmer to sink his length back in again. She was gasping, held in place by both men as their advance instinctively quickened. It was a rhythmic onslaught, one cock after the other, pumping her like some ancient Dwemer fuck machine.  
Bearing his teeth, Lleril let out a growl as he let his base desires take over. He railed her ass, feeling it tighten around him with every blow. She was silent now, her breath coming in ragged pants.  
_Good_ , he thought. She was close.  
Mallory’s hands groped blindly at her breasts, and he panted like a dog. His legs started to twitch as his movements became more erratic, letting out a loud, bestial growl.  
“Don’t you dare,” Lleril snapped at him, hissing. “She comes first.”  
The Breton grunted in response, falling back in synch with him.  
She was so close, he could feel it. The men continued their unrelenting barrage as she tensed up, rigid and unable to move as they both pushed inside of her. She was holding her breath, her mouth open in a silent moan.  
At this point, it was all Lleryl could do to keep time with the Blacksmith. He had started to twitch, every muscle in his body taught and shaking. He was afraid now he wasn’t going to make it. All he wanted to do was cum.   
Right as the Dunmer was about to give in, he finally felt her clench around him. Her whole body was shaking now, and as he felt her peak, he ardently let himself follow.  
Her ass tightened around him, throbbing as the orgasm rocked through her. The Dunmer moaned in both rapture and relief, shooting more of his load deep within her with every squeeze. As they came, she let out a cry that shook the bed, the sound of it reverberating through his very bones.  
Leaning forward he lifted a leg up and mounted her, bottoming out in her ass. She was whimpering again, and he gasped as he felt his cum fill her up with every jerk of his hips.  
Mallory wasn't far behind them. The man was grunting loudly as he drove into her, making sure she felt every drop of pleasure they could give her. When her sounds subsided he quickly pulled out, and Lleril reached under her to help finish him off.   
He was at an awkward angle, but it didn’t take more than a few firm jerks of his hand to get him there. The husky Breton roared loudly as he came, and Lleril squeezed his tip, taking care to milk every drop of cum from his cock. The man was a hero, and should be treated as such.  
After he had finished, the Blacksmith placed his large, strong hands on the Dragonborn’s waist, easing her limp body onto the bed beside him. They were all breathless now, and she stretched out, purring.  
Mallory leaned over to kiss her lightly on the lips. He was the first to speak.  
“I don’t know about you, but I sure wasn’t expecting that when I walked in here.” He chuckled, a wide grin on his face.  
She ran a finger over his hairy chest.   
“Did you enjoy yourself?” she asked, coyly looking up at him.  
He laughed loudly at that. “I mean, I wasn’t the one who shook the building with my shout, but—”  
She playfully slapped at him, pouting, “Stop that! I couldn’t help it, it just came out!”   
Turning her eyes to the Dunmer, she smiled softly at him, motioning him to the bed.  
“Come,” she ordered him this time.  
Lleril tried to think of something witty to say, but his brain had seemingly turned into an ash yam. Instead he opted to simply flop down on his back, sandwiching the Dragonborn between himself and the very satisfied Mallory.  
She leaned over and kissed him then, winding her tongue around his.  
“Thank you,” she said breathlessly. “I think I really needed that.”  
“Anytime. I mean it,” And he did. “Perhaps when Ulfric’s little war is over you’ll get the chance to visit Solstheim again. I’m sure Mallory here would love to see you,” Lleril said. Then, after a pause, “He’s going to miss you, you know.”  
To this the Blacksmith grunted in affirmation, apparently done speaking for the night.  
Looking around, the Dragonborn asked, “Ulfric? Who’s Ulfric?” a twinkle in her eye.   
Lleril sighed. He couldn’t play this game. Not with her.   
“I adore you,” he murmured, running his fingers over the curve of her hips, “and I would love nothing more than for you to shout your hothead King into Oblivion, but I know you have responsibilities. It’s unfair of me to ask you to abandon your sworn duties.”  
She looked up at the ceiling, silent for a moment. After the pause, she spoke.  
“You’re right. I’ve sworn to liberate Skyrim from the Empire, to restore the worship of Talos, and to see that the Bear of Markarth take his rightful place as High King.”  
She turned her grey eyes to him, her voice low.  
“But Skyrim is a land of war. Its plants and trees watered with blood of the slain, its people hardened by ice and death...” Lleril didn’t know what to say to this, but then she smiled at him. “...So I really don’t see the difference a day or two would make,” she laughed again, and kissed him, “Besides, Counselor. People miss their boats all the time!”  
The Dunmer raised an eyebrow. “My, you are a naughty girl,” he smirked, “I can see you’re going to need more reprimanding.” Then he flicked her nipple and hopped out of bed.   
“Where are you going?” she asked, sitting up.   
“Someone’s got to draw you another bath,” he said, picking up his robe from the floor, “and I don’t fancy waiting for Mallory to do it.”   
And just as Lleril said it, the Blacksmith began to snore. 

~le Fin~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that’s it! I wrote this as my first fic to try and exorcise Leril of House Redoran from my mind, but instead all I want to do is write more Skyrim fanfic >_<;;; I know it’s a little clunky in parts, but I’m working to improve my prose. I feel like 3 povs in one chapter was a little ambitious, but it was the finale- I had to try! Plus I couldn’t resist trying to write from Glover’s perspective, he’s too much fun. Talos bless the Mallory Brothers. 
> 
> I also love a happy ending to a smut-filled short story, hope it’s not too cheesy~~~


End file.
